Two
by SarahtheSullivan
Summary: Updated: Imogen cradles an array of dark secrets, but with the formation of the biggest one of all; will the come spilling out?
1. Epilogue

Imogen Moreno.

Her name slid off the tongue like butter; like; that Niagara Falls thing his parents dragged him to on his birthday once. Neigh, it was smoother than that. The way she presented herself was one of the most eerily mysterious and yet alluring things he has ever experienced. Her body had its own magnetic field, one so strong he had to distance himself to prevent from getting sucked into its orbit. IUt was a gravitational pull heftier than Jupiter itself.

"_Imogen Moreno, pleased to meet you."_

Her voice; _oh man _her fucking voice. He proudly labeled himself as different than most guys; resistant of the stereotype that any guy no matter what wants to fuck the brains out of you; _an exception _he thought_. _Hell, he dated an abstinent conservative Christian girl for 3 whole months and didn't mind at all. Yet for some reason when she spoke in that seductive catty voice of hers, he regularly found himself wanting to rip the clothes off her body and take her in the very halls of that god-forsaken school. He felt disgusted with himself when these sinful feelings arose. He wasn't religious in any sense, but there must've been a special type of hell for the thoughts that were drifting through his mind whenever he saw her.

Amongst other things, she was…_different. _She was eccentric, quirky, peculiar, bizarre, outlandish, abnormal, droll, unconventional, unnatural, _perfect_, irregular, strange, and so forth. Even for a guy who drove a vintage Hearse to school every day and decorate his finger nails with a black sharpie; he could say so. She was the only girl he had seen wear cat ears, and wear the proudly for that matter. She made a blatant effort to oppose and destroy any signs of conformity into this humble society. It was all just a ploy really, this he caught onto. He would discreetly observe the satisfaction creased into her face every time someone noticed her bizarre attributes; _noticed her_.

Above all of the neon eye-shadow, the chopsticks that were plunged into her hair, the vintage buddy-holly glasses; he saw her. The girl; the person; the human being that was Imogen Moreno. He quickly realized something others were too naïve or just too lazy to do…she was beautiful. The way her lustrous bay hair bounced off her shoulders when she took her pig tails down; the way she flashed her alabaster teeth in a goofy smile each time he looked at her; the way her chocolate eyes seemed to sparkle, no glitter in the right hue of light; the way she knitted her eyebrows innocently when she was confused; the absolute way she _was_. Every feature, every detail, every aspect of this girl appeased him.

Others didn't see it, which enraged him, more than it actually should. He wanted to display her to everyone, flaunt her to the people who failed to see the real Imogen Moreno. People would stare it him in disdain, mutter backhanded insults to the wild-eyed boy who shoved this strange person in their faces. They would never see her like he did, for multiple reasons.

Most of all; he was coherently and irrevocably in love with her.

Skinny Love, as they would call it. He refused to acknowledge he was, he needed to keep his mindset on Clare. The one he was _supposed _to love. But time after time he found his eyes wandering back to his side-kick, his partner-in-crime, his newly labeled best-friend. He knew that Imogen was in love with him too, she never really tried to conceal it. But he refused to suck her into the abyss that pertained to his affections. All of his past relationships ended over-dramatically, it was inevitable. They loved him, and then they slowly but surely distanced themselves because of his obsessive and protective nature. He never wanted Imogen to see that side of him; he valued their friendship too much. So he built a mental wall; a barrier to keep her from getting hurt.

But of course those walls came crashing down; imploding on it that fateful night.


	2. The Kettering

Imogen plopped her Marvel Superheroes Messenger Bag down on his floor. Her eyes lit up at the slightly messy yet completely intriguing room. Posters of familiar bands lined his walls neatly, her eyes eagerly scanning over the text etched into each one of them. _Deadhand_;_ Wavves_;_ Girlfriends_;_ Rush_; _Crystal Castles_;_ Anarbor_;_ The Smiths_;_ Sebadoh_; _The Shins_;_ Oberhofer_… One caught her attention in particular it was an album cover poster; scarlet red with two ghostly hands reaching for each other. Imogen's eyes glazed over it intently, repeatedly dragging her eyes across the bold white letters that read

_THE ANTLERS|HOSPICE _. Her arm naturally extended outward, her fingertips brushing over the poster like it was made of gold…

"Ohm, Imogen?"

Eli asked, leaning on the doorframe. Imogen pulled her hand back like she was burnt, then turned to Eli who was sending a cross look.

"Oh, hey Eli. You called me referring to something about the play?"

She improvised, briefly falling back onto his bed. Eli smirked at the girl before him, the one who was sprawled out on his bed with no explanation. He loved that feature about her, the fact she just didn't give a fuck. _He loved her_. He shook his head then began reeling out the faults of the play to Imogen; the girl who was hardly paying attention and staring up at his ceiling fan.

"So I thought we could revise th-"

"I didn't know you liked The Antlers."

Imogen interjected, rising from her position. Eli narrowed his eyes, slightly tilting his head at the confound statement.

"Yeah, do you?"

The mere 3 words sparked a fire in Imogen's eyes. Eli jolted backward as Imogen sprung from his bed.

"Do I? They saved my life!"

Eli could tell she regretted those last few words when she bit her lip apprehensively. _Saved my life_. The exclamation now carved in his head, rooting itself in an uncomfortable section of his brain. And then Imogen quickly sang her refrain-

"Metaphorically of course."

She chuckled nervously to divide the rising tension, but Eli was still pondering that statement. Imogen tried to avert his mind from the subject by grabbing his hand and hauled him out of his corduroy sphere chair. Eli stumbled into her, balancing himself with her shoulders.

"Let's dance, do you have the EP?"

She said briskly, gripping his wrists tightly. Their eyes connected, while Imogen waited for a response. Eli couldn't help but laugh at the nonsensical grin plastered on her face.

"I do, but I am not exactly the shabbiest of the dancers."

He stated. Imogen snorted, releasing his wrists and crossing her arms.

"Does it look like I care, Mr. Goldsworthy?"

Eli sank back down in his seat, a challenging smirk played on his lips. Imogen simply turned around and dispatched the stereo and CD collection. Eli blinked, observing her admiringly. Another property of hers, she was **very** persistent. She kneeled down and began to sift through his collection, lightly tossing away the ones she didn't want. Suddenly, she stopped. Eli watched, a confused scowl beginning to grow on his face as she burst out into a fit of laughter.

"Wow, Eli, Paula Abdul."

Eli scratched his neck in a volatile manner, his cheeks now the shade of a deep rose tint. Imogen snorted, shoving the CD back in its spot.

"That's hardcore."

She stated, returning to her work. Eli smirked to himself, Clare liked it so he bought it for her but when they broke up it somehow managed to pop up into his locker… along with a couple dozen other things he had gave her. Thinking about Clare no longer provoked him, he thought. He just simply wasn't in love with her anymore, and it scared him. He and Clare were supposed to be soul mates. It's frightening how suddenly and drastically things change, but that was life he guessed…

"Eliiiiiii."

Imogen chimed, dragging out his name intentionally. Eli jolted out of his pensive state and glanced at the girl who was now sitting at his feet; meddling with the plain CD that read

_THE ANTLERS|NEW YORK HOSPITALS _written sloppily on the disc. Since it was just a 3 song EP he had to download it from some illegal music sharing website. He didn't care though, it was a beautiful EP. He grabbed the disc from her hands, contemplating what to do with it. Imogen stared at him, her palms together and pressed to her face in a praying-like-manner as she repeatedly muttered '_please,please,please' _to him. Eli couldn't resist her pleas; it wasn't possible with her. He carefully stepped over her and stood at the stereo. Imogen ignited with happiness, frantically trying to rise from her feet. Eli chortled, she looked like a fish-out-of-water attempting to grow legs. Eli averted his eyes from the frenzied girl who couldn't find her feet; shoving the CD in the player.

"Thank you so much Eli!"

She chirped, finally getting to an upright stance. She stood motionless, waiting for the first few notes. Eli stood feet apart from her, waiting for what she'll do next. He seemed to do that a lot when he was around this unpredictable; prominent being. The first few notes of a song; consequently; called

_Nothing Matters When Were Dancing _exuded lightly through the air. Eli watched her intently; her movements gradually coming to life. She approached him in the tempo of the beat, as if she practiced this dance multiple times. Her movements became more distinct as the singers voice encroached and twisted itself into the melody.

"_And we'll dance among the chandeliers…_"

They were now staring each other down, little space between their pulsating bodies. So much for the Holy Ghost, Eli thought.

And suddenly, the chorus.

"_And nothing matters when we're dancing…_"

Imogen snaked her arms around his neck, pressing him to her body. Eli slightly mimicked her movements, wrapping his arms around her waist. What Eli thought would be a relaxing; slightly awkward slow dance quickly turned into the opposite. Imogen swung him around, grabbing his palms and intertwining their fingers. Imogen waltzed, gradually getting faster so Eli could take after her steps.

"_You've never been more beautiful_"

Her speed diminished as the song broke down, the lyrics clouding her mind. For a moment they just stared, only their faces were in focus as they took each step in perfect unison. It was no longer just Imogen and Eli; it was two; two people soaking up each others being with the help of a complacent and slightly depressing love song. Two people merging into one delicate mass of hidden feelings and somber gestures. Two.

"I love you Eli Goldsworthy."

Imogen muttered into his ear, quietly enough to not be heard; shutting her eyes for a brief moment. Quiet enough to not be heard; or so she thought. Because when her eyes fluttered back open as the song drifted out of their minds; Eli was stone. Imogen suppressed her movements for a moment, searching for indifference.

"What's wrong?"

She asked quietly, ready to be berated with an onslaught of "_This wasn't supposed to happen" _and _"I'm not ready for another relationship" _she was not going to even think about what the worst could be. Instead; she stood there bracing herself.

But it didn't happen, actually the precise opposite happened.

With one hasty intrusion, Eli gathered the back of Imogen's skull and pressed her to his face. Imogen reacted slowly, her lips sloppily morphing with his. Well you couldn't blame her since she was expecting something completely different, but of course she wasn't complaining. She had now caught up with him, their lips moving in sync. Month's worth of sexual tension between them was rapidly releasing as their bodies engulfed each other. Eli unintentionally fell back onto his bed, Imogen quickly joining him. She placed herself on his lap, straddling him with those toned; lovely legs of hers. They only fit in a brief glance before Imogen attacked his collare; using it to pull herself closer to him.

Right now there was no thinking, just pure impromptu action.

**But of course, It would come back to bite them in the ass.**


	3. Atrophy

Imogen eyed the livid grey domestic shorthair; flicking his tail blissfully,relaxing on the side of the bathtub. _*boom boom*_ She drained out the obnoxious clatter of a bed frame against the wall; the pleasured wails of her repugnant parents; it was a mere annoyance in the farthest part of her brain. When Imogen was younger she wished she was a cat. She'd parade the apartment complex on all 4's; hiss at strangers at the door; casually lick the backside of her hand at the dinner table. Those ample acts of her childhood drifted away over time; replaced by a more material sense of feline. Such as the cat ears she wears, or the variety of leopard-print cardigans, shirts, leggings, etc; that lined her closet space.

But now; enviously glaring at the contented animal; she realized she wanted to transform into one of them more than ever. She extended her arm to stroke him, but instead; picked him up and placed him on her lap.

"Oh, Olaf. "

She announced mid thought. _*boom boom*_ the distant shatter of a lamp on her revolting parent's night-stand wafted through her mind.

"If I could just be you for a day, one day, that'd just be lovely."

She thought out loud to him; he swiveled his ears in a cat sort-of-way to prove he was listening.

"You sit here all day, enjoying the simplest of thing; not giving a damn."

She paused, scratching his neck with her index finger.

"Heck, I could set you free. You'd still be living large with your own harem of lady cats and such."

Her lip started to tremble; she rubbed her feet on the bath mat submissively.

"But no, Olaf. We sit here on this uncomfortable porcelain electric chair; waiting for the conformation of death row."

She sobbed into his ashen fur, the droning racket she blocked out of her mind was swiftly returning. The rhythmic pulse echoing through her ears; mocking her.

"**SHUT THE FUCK UP!"**

She screeched, Olaf instinctively shifting in her lap. She embraced him, murmuring jumbled apologies for frightening him; the only friend she had in this increasingly suffocating room. She glanced reluctantly at her cellphone. _11:39 _– It's been 17 minutes. It was more than enough time. Imogen snatched the white stick that was on the counter. She shut her eyes tightly, not wanting to see it yet. Her eyes began to hurt, but she didn't want to risk accidently glancing at it.

"Well big O. It's time. Keep your paws crossed for me okay?"

The only sound in this room now was the dull purr that emitted from the feline's hyperactive vocal chords.

And then it happened.

Her eyes were open, staring at the pregnancy test that was clenched tightly in her palm.

At first, it took her about 15 seconds to string together the two lines; the two perfectly straight red lines. After that, her hand naturally made its way down to her abdomen. Her palm stretched out over its surface. And then it came to her. There was a person creating; forming; _living_ inside her. That day marked the humble beginnings of her mental atrophy; an esoteric self-disintegration. She nor Eli deserved this burden of all burdens, but that was just life she guessed…

**And then they were 3**


	4. Bear

"_There's a bear inside your stomach._

_The cub's been kicking from within"_

Imogen clutched her gut; the inevitable bile rising in her throat for the _3__rd _time this week. She could feel Eli's concerned eyes burn holes into her skin. It only added to the amount pressure; now just a tick off from exploding from compression. A wave of vertigo washed over Imogen. With the intensity to make her release the death grip she had on her pen. Now losing all sense of balance; she raised her arm. She was surrendering to the impending illness, giving up any optimistic efforts to make it through drama class.

"Yes, Imogen?"

Ms. Dawes asked, grimacing upon glancing at the unusually olive-looking Moreno.

"Can I…I need…Wastebasket."

Seeing Ms. Dawes was unable to comprehend Imogen's rather incoherent statement; she made a dash for the trashcan stationed in the farthest corner of the class.

"Oh my."

Ms. Dawes stated; rushing to the side of the girl who was expelling the contents of her stomach in the trashcan.

"Do…Are you okay?"

Imogen eyed Ms. Dawes acidly. Was she okay? Oh yah, she was fucking **dandy.** Imogen surfaced from the trashcan, placing a hand on the rim for leverage. She contemplated what to say. _"Of course Ms. Dawes, I'm only pregnant is all." _She bit her lip, when did her conscious become such a sniveling bitch?

"I'll be fine, I just may need to go home and rest. I guess it's just that flu that is passing around."

She said dryly. Yeah, it was probably just the flu. Ms. Dawes nodded in understanding, and then helped her rise to her feet. After ridding herself of all the worried nerves; and the salad she ate at lunch for that matter; she walked confidently back to her desk. Garnering all of her things; she trudged her bag over her shoulder. Casually touching a bewildered Eli's desk before sauntering out of the classroom. Everyone averted their attention from the rather…distracting events from moments ago. Everyone that is; to the exception of Eli; who stared blankly at the now empty doorway. His hand brushed up against a small slip of paper; a sticky note; that sat beside him. He pulled it off, raising it to his face.

"_Meet me at the Dot at 1700 sharp. Don't be late_

_xo xo Imogen "_

Damn Imogen and her uncanny usage of military time. But what did she want to talk about? Would it explain the obscurities that took place just moments ago? Eli thought. Maybe she had some sort of illness, maybe she just had anxiety, maybe… Eli's train of thought left him. He didn't even want to explore the possibility that briefly traversed his mind. There was no way; it wasn't possible; it just didn't happen to _him_.

**Then why did he feel so queasy?**

Edit: Sorry for another stub guys, school just gets in the way of things :[ I promise the next chapter will be much longer...

and more eventful!


	5. Bear Pt2

Imogen stirred the cappuccino pensively.

"_Eli I'm pregnant."_

"_You're gonna be a dad!"_

"_We probably just made the biggest mistake of our lives, want some coffee?"_

She thought over what was to be the most gut-wrenching; awkward conversations to ever be conceived. _Conceived_. Jesus, everything was a fucking reminder of how she screwed up. She felt like she wanted to go home; crawl into a bed, and simply _die_ for a while. Become an inanimate object; a thing. The life of a thing was much less complicated. When did her life become so bad where she wanted to turn into cats and defunct beings? Oh yah, like almost 2 weeks ago.

"Imogen?"

Imogen jolted backward in her seat, as if he shocked her. Her head shifted skyward, staring up at a set of luscious; friendly; _understanding _green eyes that belonged to no other than-Eli Goldsworthy.

"Hi Eli"

She enthused; closing her eyes affectionately as he leaned over to peck her cheek. Dear god his lips were comforting. A feeling of sanctuary cascaded through her soul; Eli smiling; not smirking; as he took a seat on the opposite side of the booth.

"Feeling better are we."

He stated. Well, the feeling was lovely while it lasted. The always lingering sense of scorn instantly returned. Imogen looked down at her hands, realizing the one grasping the cup was shaking. She giggled and placed both of her palms in her lap.

"Why yes, thank-you mister Goldsworthy."

She laughed. An utterly nervous laugh. Eli noticed her cup wasn't steaming, in fact it looked rather watery… like it was hours old.

"Ohm, Imogen?"

Imogen brightened up, trying to shadow any hints of distress.

"Yes Eli?"

"How long have you been here?"

Imogen bit her lip, glancing down at the untouched elderly cup of coffee.

"Oh I don't know, just a few hours maybe."

Eli knitted his eyebrows in confusion, Imogen providing a weak reassuring smile.

"I thought you were going home and rest?"

She could feel it. That feeling of premature tears; accumulating quickly in the ducts. She blinked them back; meanwhile biting her quivering lip. It was hard to keep from just falling apart right there.

"No, no. I just needed some time to think about things…"

Well that came out worse than it should have. Shit. Eli nodded, curiously looking for an answer in those lovely cocoa eyes of hers. But they were absent. Replaced by a dull; mundane knock off.

"Things… are tough at home with my parents. I just needed some time to think; away from them."

Nothing wasn't dire there really. Besides her alcoholic mothers 'greetings' when she got home, and their constantly active [incredibly loathsome] sex life; things were fine. That is, until they found out about the human being growing in her abdomen.

He told her about Julia; she remembered. The whole story actually [Things get boring when creating a screen play] and specifically how she would stay over at his place when things were tough with her step-mom. She didn't know why he told her this, but she found it profoundly intriguing. Because somehow; Imogen could relate. Mostly to mutually despising their parents; their mothers specifically.

Now after merely mentioning that, she could see feelings resurrect in Eli.

"Imogen, if anything; **Anything**; is wrong you can come stay with me. I'll always be there for you if you need it."

Imogen wasn't sure what did it, the statement, or the fact afterward he reached out and caressed her cheek. She just couldn't hold it back anymore.

"Excuse me."

She murmured half-heartedly; swiftly sliding out of the seat. Now out of Eli's range of view, they came down. A plethora of tears came rolling down her cheeks with no remorse. Half-way out of the door she was sobbing manically; choking on her own exasperated breaths. She stumbled onto the nearest bench; engulfing her disheveled face in her palms.

"Imogen…"

Eli said quietly, promptly sliding into the space next to her. She couldn't look at him, not him with those comforting eyes of his. She couldn't say it to his face.

"Eli, I'm pregnant."


	6. Wake

Who knew 2 simple words can be connected together into a life altering phrase?

It was then a crippling reticence fell over them; two ignorant and bewildered teens accepting the realization of their very lives.

Eli brook the silence; sort of. It was more like an oblong stutter.

"W-what?"

He was glaring at his thighs, no, his loins. People like him didn't become fathers, people like him were cautious and safe; not ones to impregnate everything in sight.

"I ohm; I'm pregnant."

She repeated weakly, a drip of uncertainty in her voice as Eli looked up and at her. He scrunched his eyebrows in a rather chilling manner. Imogen had to lean back so his hazardous gaze didn't stab her dead.

"I heard what you **fucking **said Imogen!"

Her lip trembled, that; that was just not supposed to happen. He had never cursed at her; not once. He never used that tone at her; not once. Now eyeing him; paralyzed in her position, she is left wondering where this monstrous alter-ego came from. _And how he introduced himself so quickly._

"I'm so fucking stupid, _we're _so fucking stupid. How could _we_ let this happen?"

He bellowed, rising from the bench. Tears were now spilling out of the ducts. Imogen looked up at him with tarnished; red puffy eyes. She longed for any trace of perspicacity, but Eli refused to look at her.

"We're not even _together_. How am I supposed to deal with this?"

He spat, Imogen reaching her absolute limit.

"This isn't about **YOU** Eli!"

She howled, finally grasping Eli's attention. It was like a switch had flipped and the real Eli had returned. She clenched her fists; well this seemed to be working.

"Are **YOU** carrying a human being? Are **YOU **pulling your hair out for when your parents that absolutely hate your guts, finally get their reason to kick you out? Were **YOU **dreading the very moment when you have to tell the boy you love that-"

She stepped off her soapbox, the un-ended sentence drifting heavily through the air; ringing in their ears. Eli couldn't do anything but stare. It finally got through his thick head; Imogen was scared like he was. She was beyond scared…she was terrified. He opened his mouth to speak, but Imogen turned on her hail and was jaunting off.

"Imogen wait!"

He pleaded.

"Goodbye Eli."

She sniffled; her delicate image gradually drifting away from his sight. He sank down back onto the bench; buried in a crushing weight of mixed feelings.

"I love you."

He muttered quietly, his insignificant body infused into the buzzing street scenery. The only sounds dragging through his head now were the blended motors of cars and chattering pedestrians. And of course that is; Imogen's insipid crow- "_Goodbye Eli." _ And suddenly; he was alone.

Abominably and bluntly **alone**.

**.O.o.O.o.O.**

Imogen shoved the door open, she was in a terribly irascible mood. Her heart felt like it was sent through a wood chipper; and she didn't feel like tolerating any fatuous shit that her parents would probably chastise her with for being home late.

It was unusually quiet to say the least. Maybe her parents went to sleep early? She inched through the hallway; noticing her parent's room's door was ajar.

"_I don't know what has gotten into her. Where the fuck did we go wrong?"_

Her mom shouted. Imogen leaned against the wall; discreetly surveying their conversation.

"_It's probably that little goth boy she's been hanging around; it's always them who get careless and screw up like this."_

Get careless… Oh fuck.

Olaf peered around the corner, quickly striding over to his master; greeting her with a sharp yowl.

"Shh."

She warned instinctively, then putting a hand to her own lips. Shutting her eyes tight; hoping they somehow they didn't catch that.

"Imogen?"

They said in perfect unison. Fuck. Shit. **Fuck.**

She stumbled to her room, furiously turning the handle.

"Imogen get your sorry ass back **HERE!**"

Her mother clamored, striding after her daughter. Imogen got inside, pushing the doorway closed. But somehow her mother managed to lodge a foot in the doorway before she could. The infuriated woman prodded the door open. Imogen flung back into her wall…ouch.

"What the hell is this?"

Her mother shouted; nudging the positive pregnancy test [that they probably fished out of the trash] damn well near into her face. Imogen crossed her arms fervently, playing a coy scowl on her lips.

"A pregnancy test."

Her mom could've had a mental hernia with the amount of anger she was now harboring. He rnostrils flared, her enraged eyes cutting aggressively into Imogen's.

"Don't be a smart ass Imogen. Who knocked you up? Was it that emo shit you always hang around with?"

Now Imogen could feel the acts of acrimony swelling up within her. Eli didn't deserve that treatment, even if he screwed up with her earlier that day.

"I told you not to **call him that!**"

Imogen pressed pass her mother, reaching for her bag that was slumped up against the wall. Her mother snagged her arm suddenly and sharply. Imogen peeled her mother's arm off of her.

"Do not fucking touch me."

She growled. Her mother smirked; putting her arms on her hips. Imogen grasped her bag, slinging it over her shoulder.

"Then how will I teach you not to give yourself to the first guy available? Giving favors like some common slut."

She stood perfectly still; the fresh words burning through her scalp into her skull. Slut. _Slut._

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you over you and dads constant obstreperous fucking. And how can I forget Mr. Martel, and Mr. Himmler."

She spun on her heel; purely to catch her mother's awed expression. A grin stretched across her cheeks; this one was going to be a screamer.

"Miss Moreno you cheeky little **infidel**."

And boom goes the punch line, sadly only Imogen thought it was funny. Jasmine Moreno stood there for a few long seconds; heaving thick exasperated breathes.

And then it happened.

Without warning Jasmine's clenched fist came in contact with her face.

A blow heavy enough to make Imogen fall back into her bed; sinking into a crumpled mess. Before she had any time to process what just happened; Jasmine swooped in for another hit; cuffing Imogen's jaw bluntly. A lifetime of pent up envy and hatred was released on her undeserving daughter. Jasmine didn't stop; buffeting her daughter without mercy.

Between the punches and slaps and sloppy hair pulling Imogen was frantically screeching her father's name. But it seemed like he disappeared in the midst of the fray. Realizing this; Imogen then searched for the closest object; any object.

Which, consequently, happened to be a small piggy bank.

Imogen grasped it, wiggling her way out of Jasmine's grip. With one swift movement the piggybank came crashing down on the back of her skull. A dull thud; and the fight was over.

Imogen had knocked her out cold. Imogen didn't think twice as she stuffed most of her belongings in the bag; necessities. She needed to leave that ever so suffocating apartment. She trotted down the hallway, stopping for a moment. She looked down at Olaf who had instinctively positioned himself in a corner by the refrigerator. She scooped him up; tucking him under her arm; then dashing out the doorway.

She ran. She ran as far as she possibly could to distance herself from that shithole.

Imogen slowed down to take in her new surroundings; a neighborhood; one that seemed quite familiar. Imogen stopped in front of a house with a blue tarp spread out over one of the cars in the driveway; aimlessly collecting dust. The hearse. The broken down hearse beyond repair; even from handyman Eli.

Imogen heaved a fatigued sigh; pacing up the walk way. She stopped at the door; adjusting Olaf's position in her arms. With three sharp wraps to the door-ringer she stood there; quite patiently really. Her muscles tensed as a set of footsteps grew louder and louder; it stopped.

The door swung open.

"Imogen?"

Eli gasped.


	7. Corsicana

Imogen smiled languidly; wondering if Eli was just going to persist to stare at her.

Eli's eyes glazed over her; her body; her _skin_. It was covered in swelling welts, multiple scratches, face lacerations, an open gash on her lip; hair was scuffled and damp with sweat. She looked damaged, broken; impaired, crushed… the list could go on forever. He couldn't say anything, because if he tried to, he'd be inclined to break down into tears and cradle Imogen in his arms; where she could be safe.

"I got in a fight with my mom."

She announced; purely to break the glacier like ice that had planted itself between them. Eli winced; unable to look at her anymore. It was his fault she got mad. It was his fault she stormed off and went home. It was his fault she got caught up in that easily attainable fight. Now he owed her.

"When I said you can stay with me anytime; I **meant** it Imogen."

He affirmed, a weak smile tugged at his lips. Imogen sniffled, her fragileness becoming incredibly authentic; Eli realized; as she buried herself in his arms. Her head subtly pressed against his chest. Eli engulfed her willingly; carefully blanketing her with his gentle arms. Imogen was no longer; _not by any means_ going to be taken for granted by him ever again. Somehow she chained herself into a blocked off section of his heart. And he liked it like that.

They stood in each other's embrace for… who knows how long. They absorbed each other; assimilating each other's very existence. That is,

Until his parents returned from their dinner date; only to arrive to Eli and _some _girl interlocked; folded in each other's arms.

This strife was going to be a joy to construe, Eli concluded.

**O.o.O.o.O.o.O.**

"Sit."

Cece ordered, folding her legs; adjusting her position on the stool. Eli and Imogen slumped down on the noisy leatherette couch. Sitting on opposite sides; Imogen brought her legs up to her chest, sinking her head low in some hope they wouldn't notice the bruises, or the perceptible intrusions that blemished her face.

"I just want to know, why I come home at 12:47 to see my son with…"

Bullfrog gestured his arms at a vastly conservative Imogen; who managed only to make herself smaller in that interrogative cell that was once pertained as a living room.

"Without any introduction."

Bullfrog grunted. Imogen was taken aback by his laid-back intake of seeing his son hug her quite intimately under the porch light. Imogen glanced at Eli, hinting she didn't want to introduce herself as Imogen; the quirky care free girl who recently was impregnated and beat up by her once border-line abusive mother.

Pleased to meet you.

"This is my _girlfriend_ Imogen"

Eli proclaimed keenly, Imogen admired that pleasing ten letter word. It was quite amazing how such a simple 2 syllable word could spark such vibrant adulation in her heart.

"That's lovely Eli, but you know the rule about having girls over no later than midnight."

Cece cited.

"Imogen ohm, she uhh…"

"Eli, it's okay."

She said calmly, casting a sly wink at Eli. Another ploy was brewing up in Imogen Moreno's noggin. She released the tight grip on her shins, stretching her legs out; gradually rising to her feet. She extended her maimed arms; revealing the assortment of bruises she accumulated from the strife. Cece and Bullfrog gasped; Cece cupping her open mouth; overwhelmed.

Imogen chuckled; turning on the inner actress inside her.

"I fell down the stairs. I'm such a klutz sometimes; right Eli?"

Eli nodded grimly; not thrilled with idea she was going to sugarcoat the fact she was assaulted by her mother.

Bullfrog shifted uncomfortably on the recliner. Not entirely buying this concept.

"Not to be rude miss, but why are you here then?"

Imogen grinned, unaltered by his point.

"The rents kicked me out for ludicrous reasons; Eli informed that I could stay with you guys if needed?"

She said immaculately. It was astonishing how she [_Of all people_] could pull off such a pristine; virtuous Imogen Moreno. When things were serially becoming the exact opposite.

Cece and Bullfrog looked at each other reluctantly; shrugging their arms.

"I don't see why not…"

Imogen leapt with joy; not actress Imogen; genuine Imogen. She hugged Cece and Bullfrog individually, radiating her enthusiasm; to the point where it rubbed off on them.

"This means the world to me."

Her body stiffened from the amount of movement; the pain was finally starting to reach her. She could no longer neglect the inevitable. This was going to hurt like hell for a while. She still managed her exuberant grin, tugging at Eli. He rose to his feet.

"I'd love to get to know you better, but I'm awfully tired."

Bullfrog and Cece got up, gesturing in a understanding manner. Eli and imogen proceeded to walk to his room, Bullfrog cutting him off.

"Not so fast Eli. As long as Imogen is here you will be bunking on the couch."

Bullfrog grunted; patting his sons shoulder before retiring to the bedroom with Cece. Imogen giggled as Eli reluctantly sank back down onto the couch. She kissed his forehead affectionately; grabbing her bag and heading towards the first room on the left. She nudged the door open; the all too familiar scenery once again before her eyes. Her bag fell out of her hand; spilling some of the contents. She kneeled over to pick them up.

One of the items; her pregnancy test.

She shoved it back in there, as if his parents would magically appear to see it there; standing out in this room already filled with obscurities. She stared at it with disdain.

It was fun to pretend for a while. But now reality came seeping through; no matter how many walls she will construct it will always find itself returning. Like a boomerang that you never wanted to play with in the first place.

**A boomerang she'd soon have to confront.**


	8. Shiva

And so it went.

Eli and Imogen wound out the days bit by bit.

Pitching ideas to each other on how to tell his parents. It was going to be extremely hard, so they needed to plan it carefully. Plus, the longer they waited the more and more they warmed up to Imogen [It was quite natural really, considering she has a built in magnetic attraction with people].

_"Maybe we can say the condom broke?" Imogen tried._

_"That will only leave a scary mental image in their head," Eli deadpanned._

Week 08- Imogen started to notice her eating habits had doubled, no tripled. When offered She ate like a famished elephant every sitting. One day she locked herself in the bathroom and devoured half a cheesecake. It made her feel disgusting, she just wanted to dispense all the bad from her growing abdomen. But she just couldn't, and that is one of the most frustrating things she has ever experienced.

_Imogen raised her index finger "A HA!"_

_Eli looked up from his calculus homework, "What?"_

_"What if we tell them it was a spur of the moment thing?"_

_"Imogen, how is that going to make them any less madder?"_

_She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again._

_Twiddling her fingers submissively._

Week 10- Imogen started crying for absolutely no reason. It was during History and triggered by a picture from her textbook of a Mayan woman holding a baby. People stared at her dubiously, even Mr. Armstrong paused the lesson and escorted her out of the classroom so she could have some air. When strolling in the hallway her mood fluctuated, she wiped away the tears and slapped a vibrant smile on her face. But heading towards the bathroom she noticed Eli stepping out of the office, making the melancholy feelings recur. She spent about 12 minutes slumped over a sink, crying her retinas out. That was a strange day.

_"You got pregnant by a random person at a party while incredibly intoxicated."_

_Eli stated, finishing the last details of his portrait of Imogen._

_Imogen casted him a dirty look, not even going to contemplate that idea._

_Eli pouted, then handed her the sketch pad. She grinned sprucely at his creation._

Week 15- Imogen collapsed on Eli's bed one Friday evening and didn't wake up until late Saturday night. She woke up to dense sensation of nausea that lingered for days. She constantly felt like throwing up. Her mass amount of eating didn't help it either. The sleeping and the nausea was soon accompanied by dizziness. Constant dizziness. It arose suddenly and harshly midday, sometimes so severe she had to lay down in the middle of Drama class. Ms. Dawes would regularly pester her to seek help from the nurse, her being exceptionally wary of Imogen after her vomit ordeal that one day. But each time Imogen refused, reassuring her with falsities that it was just a stomach bug.

_Imogen rolled slowly to a stop. Propping her bike up with a single leg, waiting for a busy intersection to clear._

_"HA!"_

_She exclaimed, grabbing Eli's attention immediately. _

_He stared at her keenly from his bike on the opposite side of her._

_"I... I got nothing."_

_Eli frowned, utterly disappointed this time._

_She bit her lip, peddling onward to the thrift store._

Week 20- Imogen is now showing greatly. She constantly finds herself cradling her stomach, covering up the child expanding in her womb. She has bought thicker; heavier clothes to wear. Some days she'll sit at her open wardrobe, stroking Olaf rhythmically whilst staring at the beautiful assortment of clothing she wore confidently. Now sitting in an ugly lent-colored hoodie and sweat pants she feels one of the few ways she could express herself has literally been stripped form her body. At school she has become less significant than she already was, lugging around in bland sweat shirts; having bags under your eyes all the time; having your once envy chancing hair become dull and messy...Just generally being unappealing all the time was no good to your already low social status.

Then came the day.

**o.0.o.0.o**

Imogen and Eli stared up at his ceiling. It was decision time; time wasn't getting any slower and Imogen was getting pregnant...ter? She rested her head against his, looking at him.

"Got any ideas?"

Without moving his eyes away, he promptly muttered "No."

Imogen resumed her position, their stares nearly equal.

The idea just strolled into her mind, without caution. Effortlessly planting itself in a section of her brain, the section of freakishly brilliant ideas. She smirks, eli scrunching his eyebrows.

"What?"

"I was raped."


End file.
